A knock on the door shattered the silence breaking her thoughts. She cleared her dry throat. “Who is it?”
“It’s Jonathon.” His deep voice gave Rowena a slither of comfort. Being alone in the huge room with the wardrobe full of plundered dresses made her feel more than uneasy. “Breakfast is ready.”
“Oh, thank you, Jonathon. I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Right. See you soon.”
Rowena jumped out of bed when she heard him walk away, then she headed toward the washstand. She washed her face and combed her hair, leaving it to hang loosely around her hips. Then she went over to the wardrobe and noticed all the clothing had been removed and replaced with new gowns. Perhaps Jonathon had them replaced. Confused, she chose a simple gray gown, and pulled on a pair of button-up leather boots and headed for the dining room.
Jonathon appeared to be having a serious conversation with Ronan and didn’t notice Rowena enter the room. Their heads were so close they were nearly touching and their faces were long. Ronan was taking notes down on parchment paper as Jonathon talked. Rowena pulled a chair out from the table making a grating noise that caught their attention. Jonathon rose from his chair and rushed to Rowena, taking the chair from her and motioned for her to sit. Always the gentleman.
“Thank you.” Rowena smiled briefly. Jonathon chose a chair next to her and looked into her eyes. A look of concern marred his face as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. The warmth from his touch had her blood tingling. His hand shot away when Polly burst through the double doors pushing a tea trolley. There was a huge selection of breakfast foods on the trolley including fruit, buttermilk, porridge, a thick loaf of plaited bread and a large tea stoneware teapot. Rowena cringed, recalling the porridge from yesterday morning and couldn’t stand trying to swallow the concrete colored mush again. The hot scones looked inviting but she didn’t have much of an appetite.
Polly spotted her and smiled. “Good Mornin’, Gwyn!” Her cheerful voice rang in Rowena’s ears.
“Morning,” Rowena replied thinking that there was nothing good about the morning but managed to give Polly a forced smile. Polly picked up the huge teapot and rushed around the long table filling the delicate blue and white china teacups in front of Rowena, Jonathon, and Ronan with steaming hot tea. Ronan’s wolf sat under the table with his head resting on his paws. He whined softly, the breakfast food sitting above him was giving off aromas he probably found hard to resist. Ronan rubbed the wolf’s ears making him pant happily then he turned to Rowena, picking up his tea.
“Are you feeling well enough to go to the prisons today?” he asked.
“Of course.” Rowena waited for Polly to leave the room. “I can’t stay here, not when Isabel needs me.” She burnt her tongue on the hot tea and placed it back on the table. Her gaze drifted warily over to the lumpy porridge. Jonathon put some warm bread on Rowena’s plate and winked at her.
“I don’t want to eat the porridge either,” Jonathon laughed, and nudged Rowena, making her laugh too. Ronan slyly looked around the room and took the large bowl of concrete porridge and placed it on the floor beside Kiba. The wolf sniffed the bowl and put his nose up with a whimper. Everybody laughed but Rowena’s face quickly turned sour.
“I know you’re upset, Rowena. It’s not easy for Ronan and I either, having to pretend to enjoy the witch slayings,” Jonathon said, pulling apart a piece of bread. Rowena shot him a hurt look.
“You’ve seen them die?”
“Well yes. I had to, otherwise, I’d look suspicious and maybe blow my cover.”
“How many?” Rowena had to know.
“I don’t know…”
“You don’t know?” Rowena felt her temperature rise. “How could you not know?” Her cheeks were starting to burn.
“There’s been too many. I’m afraid I have lost count.” Jonathon shook his head gently. Rowena was sure she could see wetness in his eyes.
Ronan sat, watching them closely. “We’d better get going,” he said, “they’ll be taking the women food soon.” He got up from his chair, taking one last bite of a thick chunky bit of bread.
Jonathon helped Rowena up and they followed Ronan out of the dining room and out of the cold mansion. Kiba was left to contemplate the lumpy porridge on his own.
A brown carriage waited outside of the mansion with its windowed doors wide open. Two horses attached to the carriage neighed and lifted their feet as they waited patiently for them to enter. They descended the stone steps leading from the doorstep to the pathway and walked up to the carriage. Rowena patted one of the horses and laid her head against his, closed her eyes. She breathed deeply along with the horse, letting herself forget everything for a moment, and take in the sleekness of the horse’s coat. The earthy smell. The horse nudged her chest and neighed gently, blowing her hair. She patted both of the horses then returned to Jonathon’s side.
“You really like animals, don’t you?” Jonathon asked, eyeing the horses.
“I feel close to them, they are much wiser than us. A horse would never kill a living being for no reason.”
Rowena began thinking about the brutal killings in store for her loved ones and felt anger prickle. “Why is this happening? We are a threat to no one,” she said. “We would never ever do anything to match what the town is doing to us.” She stared up at the mansion. “We want peace, that is all.”
“I know this, Rowena. That’s why we’re here,” Jonathon said, looking all around him.
“Don’t worry, Jonathon. Nobody heard her.”
A hunched over man walked over from the garden, doing up his belt. How disgusting, Rowena thought; there was a perfectly good privy in the garden. The man approached them and nodded, mumbling something under his breath. Rowena thought he asked them if they were ready to go but couldn’t be sure. Rowena swallowed hard. This man didn’t look like he could operate a staircase, let alone guide two horses harnessed to a moving carriage. He climbed up and grabbed the horse’s reigns.
Jonathon offered his hand to Rowena, helping her up. Her green eyes looked into his dark ones as he helped her up into the carriage.
“Don’t be so nervous, Rowena, everything is going to be okay,” Ronan whispered as he jumped aboard.
Yes, she was feeling nervous and feared she wouldn’t be able to keep her cover when she entered the prison. Ronan seemed to read her mind. “They won’t suspect a thing. Just don’t show any emotion, you can be screaming on the inside, but don’t let it show.”
Rowena nodded, intending to do her best to listen to his advice. The last thing she needed was to be stuck in the prison herself.
She heard the crack of a whip as the hunched over driver snapped at the reins, making the horses bolt forward, their hooves clomping along the cobbled courtyard. Inside the carriage, they bumped up and down as the wheels rolled over stones and gravel. Rowena’s teeth chattered every time the carriage went over a bump. Pulling a frilly green curtain open, she peered out the window as they made their way down the street. Villagers looked up at the moving carriage and nodded at the driver while they swept pathways and chatted among themselves. Their grim faces gave Rowena little hope of finding a friendly face in the streets. She took one last look at the empty street and turned toward Jonathon, who was looking at her.